Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
I’ve seen more of these aliens than I ever wanted to. They don’t regard me as a sentient being because I can’t talk like they do inside their heads, so they have a tendency to walk around me while they’re naked. I’ve seen some alien dong, in other words, not Arkan’s, but the man of the house. He was hung like the proverbial equine.
My ass is stinging from where Arkan’s stupid big alien hand made contact with my rear through the stupid pet clothes that barely cover anything. The lady of this alien family thought it would be fun to get me all kinds of outfits. She must have spent a whole lot of alien money on getting me looking just right, and then I refused to wear any of it, insufferable, insulting costumes that they were. It took them a good hour to wrestle me into the clown-colored ballerina costume I’m currently wearing. Talk about humiliation.
Arkan is carrying me away from them now, to the back of the store. He tips me off his shoulder and into a human sized cage he has back there. Immediately, I see and smell that I am not alone. There’s another person in a nearby cage, some guy cowering in the corner. Poor bastard. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him. He must be terrified.
“Behave yourself,” Arkan warns me in perfect English.
“Go fuck yourself,” I reply.
He smiles at me, flashing a big mouth full of rather sharp teeth. These aliens really look very dangerous. They’re impossibly tall, and they are made like predators. But they’re advanced, and so they don’t use that strength aggressively, as far as I can tell. They’re intellectual and they talk telepathically, and they really enjoy a very orderly world. Every part of their city is artisanal and original, including their pets, which unfortunately includes me.
“I’ll deal with you later,” he says. “Once I have dealt with the traumatized owners you’ve created.”
“Fuck all of you,” I respond. I’d never admit it, but I am actually very relieved to be talking to someone, because the aliens he sold me to have absolutely no idea how to communicate verbally. I’ve spent the last god knows how many days in a veil of tense and stressed silence.
Arkan lifts a brow at me and shakes his head in a gesture that reads very much as human. His pale, ice-colored hair falls around his powerful features in a rakish veil. Hs eyes are the color of gold and rimmed with lashes of dark blue. His chin, jaw, and entire mandibular plane is chiseled in the extreme. He’s hot. He is way too fucking hot. But not too hot to hate.
I glare at him with all the loathing I can muster. This is all his fault. He did this to me. He thinks humans are animals he has the right to sell. I will make him regret ever taking me. I will ensure that every time he sells me, I ruin his reputation a little more.
I went out of my way to destroy everything at the house of the aliens where I was sold. They don’t say much, but they made some very interesting noises when they discovered that I’d slashed all their furniture using what I guess was a ceremonial knife. It was hanging on the wall just begging to be used for some good old-fashioned vengeance.
After locking me away, he goes back out to the front to silently negotiate whatever it is he’s going to give them in terms of compensation. I hope I’m costing him a lot more than I’m worth.
As soon as he is gone, I turn my attention to the other person in the other cage.
“Hey, buddy,” I hiss.
A pair of dark eyes appears behind the bars. He’s a guy, maybe in his thirties. He looks scared. He should be. There’s nothing for us here on this planet. And there’s no way back home that I’ve seen. The only small glimmer of hope I can see is that I might be able to convince this alien trader of human flesh to take me home if I am enough of a fucking pain in the ass.
“Hey,” he says. “What the fuck is going on? I think I must have taken something. I’m tripping balls and seeing blue people.”
“We’re all tripping balls, dude. Except we’re not. We’ve been captured by an alien who sells humans to other aliens.”
“Oh fuck!” He curses and panics, wrapping his hands nervously around the bars, looking out at me with a haunted expression. He looks like an accountant or something, wearing a rumpled suit that probably looked good when he first put it on. His tie is loosened, and his shirt is open several buttons. He’s wet, maybe from sweat. Maybe he fell asleep and knocked over his water bowl. Been there, done that.